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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518477">Golden Joinery</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes'>scatteringmyashes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:55:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,109</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518477</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd is inheriting a kingdom under duress. Sreng has become more aggressive, the Alliance waits to see where it can profit, and the Adrestian Empire watches for weakness. Old alliances are more important than ever before, so it is with a heavy burden that Dimitri travels to Duscur, intent to reestablish the historic ties between the two nations.</p><p>All Dedue knows is that he's been awfully busy and the security in the capital has become a nightmare.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Golden Joinery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Whew! This is a gift to Mircobunnies on Twitter as she won the giveaway I did back in February. Sorry it took me a bit, but in my defense,,,, it's long.</p><p>Thank you to Eri for letting me borrow Sana! Go read their fic  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21652282">Pocketful of Posies,</a> which features Ashe seeing dead people. </p><p>Additional thanks to Donnie for beta'ing this for me! Go read his awesome <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21555436">Dimidue</a> fic that makes me feel real emotions constantly. </p><p>Cheers!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Like usual, Sana's entrance was a force of nature condensed into human form — twenty-six years of swinging a hammer, kicking down doors, and teasing little brothers with every other word would do that. Dedue hardly looked up from his work, couldn’t afford to get distracted at this point where the gold was just hot enough to mold but cooling rapidly. He carefully poured the molten gold into the cast, hands steady and eyes unblinking. </p><p>"Your favorite stall was out of milk," Sana stated, heading through the forge towards the small living quarters that took up the second floor. She had to cross through to get to the stairs, stopping to peer over Dedue's shoulder — it had been years, but she had never quite forgiven him for daring to grow taller. "Which order is this?" </p><p>"The Sadachar family," Dedue replied. The mold filled, he turned the timer that would let him know when the metal had hardened enough for him to break the cast back open. "They are preparing for the wedding." </p><p>"Good for them. I'll finish the candlesticks tonight — only another sixty then we can drop them off at the manor." Sana started walking away. "You should have seen the market! So many guards."</p><p>"It must be in preparation for the dignitaries," Dedue shouted back — he had to, what with the noise of the furnace. He checked the timer and, confident he had time, went to push more air into the bellows. Sana and he had discussed bringing an apprentice under their wings, but… it didn't feel like the right time. </p><p>Sana was gone for hardly a minute before she reappeared, the shopping put away and no doubt waiting for Dedue to reorganize later. While Sana ran the forge, Dedue was better in the kitchen. In Sana's defense, it had been years since she made anyone sick. At this point, it was just habit that kept her out of the culinary arts. </p><p>"When you're done with that, can you pick up the buttons from the engravers? Aran said he would be done this afternoon."</p><p>Dedue nodded. He flexed his hand, feeling it tense up. Sana frowned. </p><p>"This month has been insane — all this for some ambassador? It is too much. Nobles care more for appearances than practicality — we must have used more gold this month than in the last year!" Sana might be the only smith to complain about too much work, but when you were a Molinaro you could afford to be picky. </p><p>They weren’t the kind of smiths where someone could walk in and just buy something off the shelf — not unless it was one of Sana’s experimental ceramic pieces. No, the Molinaro family was the best in Duscur with precious metals. Not just gold but silver too, and gems, but they were best known for their goldwork. Oh, they could make a sword or a plow just as well as anyone else, but what was the point when every noble family wanted something shiny and expensive for their dining room? </p><p>“I would rather be busy than not,” Dedue replied. He looked at the timer. It was almost out of sand, the last few grains trickling downwards. “I will make curry for dinner, unless you have objections.”</p><p>“You know I don’t.” Sana yawned, pulling her apron on and then tugging thick gloves over her hands. “What do we have left after those?” </p><p>“The palace’s order is due at the end of the week. I have started the plates and the cutlery, but I have not had time to finish.” Dedue shrugged. “I have been unusually tired recently.” </p><p>Sana snorted, a brief frown flickering on her face. Dedue knew his sister well and raised an eyebrow in response. She waved a hand, trying to be dismissive but only increasing Dedue’s suspicions.</p><p>“What?” She asked, seeing the way he was looking at her. </p><p>“You have something you want to say to me,” he said. Sana sighed.</p><p>“You would have more energy if you did not spend so long on your pet project.” She gave him a wry smile. “That won’t make you happy. There are better things to do with broken pots.” </p><p>“And I promise you will be the first to know when I have discovered that.” Dedue reached over for his hammer. “I will be happy once these knives are done.” He split the mold open. Ten knives, gleaming and only in need of a bit of polishing and sharpening, revealed themselves. </p><p>“Better get to work,” Sana teased. “Then you can fix more pots.” </p><p>The rest of her words were consumed by the bellow of the forge. </p><p>#</p><p>Dedue and Sana were just two of the many, many citizens of Duscur lining up the streets of the capital come the afternoon of the last day of the week. Really, it felt like every soul in the city was waiting with baited breath. It had been over a decade since there was anyone official from Faerghus, and now a proper ambassador was visiting? Political implications aside, it was surely going to be an event for the ages. </p><p>The forge was a few streets away from the central avenue that led from the city gates all the way to the palace in the heart of the city. It was of little effort to get a place on the street right at the entrance to the palace. Dedue and Sana were half-covered by the canopy of a market stall that was selling kebabs of chicken and goat and various vegetables. The smell made Dedue’s stomach rumble, but he had no desire to try to get the attention of the stall owners, who were already being heckled enough. </p><p>“We should have kebabs for dinner,” Sana commented as she idly picked at her nails. </p><p>“We had kebabs earlier this week,” Dedue pointed out.</p><p>“So? Let’s have it again.” </p><p>Any further discussion was halted as a contingent of runners dashed up the street, shouting at the top of their lungs.</p><p>“Clear the way for the dignitaries from Faerghus, guests of King Araavad the Third!” Then, on horseback in the blue-red-gold colors of Duscur, the royal cavalry. Dedue had made their earrings, all fifty-eight of them, last year. He was happy to see that they were still as impressive some time later.</p><p>The cavalry rode in, some carrying banners for Duscur but most just holding onto their reins. Dedue was tall, even for someone from Duscur, and he could see the palace gates swing open. King Araavad stepped out with his personal guard, his wife, and their three children. All of them were dressed in heavy robes. Dedue felt a stab of sympathy. The thick fabric, even this far north, was surely still stifling in the summer heat and with this many people gathered. </p><p>Before his gaze could linger, one final cavalryman came down the street, bellowing into a hand cone.</p><p>“Presenting his royal highness, King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, first of his name. He is accompanied by Duke Fraldarius and his highness’s royal knights.” Instantly, murmurs broke out over the crowd. Not only were these visitors from Faerghus, but this was the king! </p><p>Dedue numbly realized that this was what every noble family was in an uproar about. Of course they wanted to impress — anyone would when it was possible that the king of the richest and most powerful neighboring nation was visiting. Duscur boasted of an impressive fleet and was certainly well-armed, but Faerghus was a nation built on war. The two had good relations largely because they had no interest in each other’s lands. But there had never been a real alliance, just an agreement to stick to one’s own lands and seas. </p><p>This promised more than that. </p><p>Dedue had to squint in order to see what the Faerghus knights looked like. Each was in full plate armor, gleaming like the sun itself. Their horses were well-trained and larger than Duscur horses but less stocky. Blue and silver seemed to be the predominant colors among the knights, but Dedue could instantly tell who Duke Fraldarius was — he wore a teal, not navy, cloak lined with white fur, and his helmet had silver wings spreading from the sides. He leaned towards his companion, who could only be one person.</p><p>King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd was a tall man. Even on his horse, his proper posture managed to make him clearly in charge, even if his long fur-lined cape and the lance in his hand weren't distinct enough. Duscur didn’t have holy relics, the weapons that twitched and glowed and looked like they were made from bone, but the Blaiddyd family had a lance that glowed and was said to drink the souls of those it killed. In the afternoon heat, Dedue shivered. </p><p>The king's face was hidden by his helmet, the design reminiscent of a hawk or a falcon — some bird of prey with the nose piece curved like a sharp beak. It was impossible to tell if he was handsome or pleasant or cruel. Dedue's grandmother said that a man's true nature was in his eyes. All the Faerghus representatives had their faces covered. Dedue knew many merchants from Faerghus, but he couldn't help but feel uneasy with these strangers. </p><p>The group was followed by a few carts of supplies, a few foot soldiers, and various servants. Less than Dedue would have expected — were they not planning on staying long? Who could say? </p><p>"We could make a better helm," Sana muttered, just loud enough for Dedue to hear her. Dedue snorted. He glanced down, followed her line of sight, and was unsurprised to see that she was glaring at the king. </p><p>"It is most likely a family heirloom." </p><p>"It is still ugly." </p><p>Privately, Dedue had to agree. The steel was polished but old, any sharp lines long since lost. It was still impressive, but certainly not perfect. Maybe it was just a Faerghus thing? </p><p>"At least we know why this month has been so chaotic." Sana rolled her eyes. "Nobles never know when to stop." </p><p>"That's a king," someone chided her, a young man with a crooked nose. </p><p>"Doesn't mean he has good taste," Sana replied. Then, while sticking her nose up— "Rich people have the worst taste." </p><p><i>But they keep us fed and employed</i>, Dedue thought. </p><p>"But they are rich," Dedue said instead. Sana might have replied, but he didn't hear. His attention was on the way the king threw his head back, shoulders shaking in laughter. </p><p>Dedue watched even as the king and all his men were welcomed into the palace grounds, the parade marching inside and the gates closing behind them with a <i>thud.</i></p><p>#</p><p><i>Tap. Tap. Tap</i>.</p><p>"If we don't show our strength, they won't take us seriously." </p><p>"What do you consider bringing half the royal knights?"</p><p>"Protection!" </p><p>"We're on a diplomatic mission." </p><p>"Because no king has ever been assassinated on a peaceful mission?" </p><p><i>Tap. Tap. Tap</i>.</p><p>"Don't even joke about that, Ingrid!" </p><p>"I'm not joking — someone has to be suspicious." Ingrid frowned. </p><p>“The people of Duscur have given us absolutely no reason to think that they’d betray us. Besides, even if they tried they’d have to get through us. Right, little brother?” Glenn’s easy grin was probably supposed to be casual, but he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and had a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “The sword and shield of the king. Nothing can get through that.”</p><p>Felix crossed his arms, trying to be taken seriously even though he was the shortest person in the room. “What does his Majesty think?” He asked, looking at Dimitri.</p><p><i>Tap. Tap. Tap</i>.</p><p><i>Crack</i>.</p><p>Felix cleared his throat loudly. “Your Majesty?” </p><p>Dimitri started from his thoughts. “Sorry, did you say something?” He saw Ingrid’s frown, Felix’s blank expression, and Glenn’s distressed grimace. Dimitri looked down. </p><p>He had been tapping on a desk, having seated himself as soon as his armor was off.  He really just wanted to rest, but he had to remain presentable until after the welcome banquet. Riding all day on the way to Duscur was fun for the first few days, but once he entered Duscur he had been fully decked in all the unnecessary finery that turned a comfortable ride to a literal pain in the posterior. He had thankfully shed most of his finery upon entering his quarters, so he wasn’t physically burdened anymore. </p><p><i>Had been tapping</i>, however, because there was now a crack right down the middle of the desk. There was an inkwell and collection of papers on top — they slid off as the desk fell apart in two pieces. </p><p>“I am just saying,” Ingrid continued, mercifully ignoring yet another example of why Dimitri was absolutely unprepared for a major diplomatic mission, “Duscur has always responded best to shows of force. If we want to convince them to ally with us, then I see no reason why that should change.”</p><p>“If we need a show of force, we can always give his Majesty something to hold,” Glenn replied dryly. </p><p>Felix scowled. Before he could lecture his brother on proper fealty, Dimitri stood. </p><p>“I understand that we need to be prepared, however we have been travelling all day. Dinner is in a few hours. We should all refresh ourselves beforehand.” Dimitri managed a small smile. His head was throbbing. He wasn’t sure if it was a normal headache or one of <i>those</i> headaches. “I will see you all at dinner, where I expect everyone to be polite to our hosts. Glenn, please discuss with the knights what their duties are while we are here.”</p><p>“Yes, your Majesty.”</p><p>“What may I assist you with?” Felix asked. </p><p>Dimitri almost ordered him to rest, but that was the one thing Felix would not do even for his king. Even as children… Well, Felix’s devotion was well-known amongst Faerghus nobility. He was the pride of Rodrigue’s eyes, after all. </p><p>After everything that had happened, Felix had thrown himself into being the perfect picture of a knight. It didn't matter that he and Dimitri hadn't spoken as friends in years, because Felix was loyal to a fault. </p><p>Dimitri would have preferred the old Felix who cried at the tip of a hat. </p><p>“Write back to Faerghus and let them know we’ve arrived. The last thing any of us need is your father growing concerned about us because we forgot to write a letter.” <i>Or to worry Sylvain,</i> Dimitri thought, but he kept that to himself. It would be very characteristic of the next margrave to abandon his post to run to the rescue. “I do not want to be disturbed until dinner,” Dimitri added as an afterthought. </p><p>The other three all nodded and bowed, leaving the room without question. It was quiet. </p><p>Dimitri still felt a pounding in his head. </p><p>He went over to his bed — or what would be his bed for the foreseeable future. The mission didn’t have a set end beyond <i>Once Duscur is allied to Faerghus</i> or, on the dark side, <i>Once they all get kicked out of Duscur.</i> Faerghus would be fine with Rodrigue acting as the regent. Honestly, Rodrigue would probably be a better king than Dimitri, but that wasn't allowed. </p><p>A proper king wouldn't lay face-first in bed without even bathing, but Dimitri didn't care. The sheets were clean and smelled faintly of lavender soap. There was a set of furs that he imagined came in handy in the winter, but it was far too warm for them now. He rolled onto his back. The bedside table had a set of glasses and a pitcher of water. He sat up.</p><p>Dimitri broke two glasses before finally giving up and drinking right from the pitcher itself. Was Duscur glasswork just weak or was it his nerves? He always did have more trouble when he was stressed, and what was more stressful than his first mission as king? </p><p>The room felt stifling, and not because of the heat. He strode across the room and threw open one of the windows. The noise of the city rushed in on the breeze. Duscur's capital, Eridu, was smaller than Fhirdiad but it felt bigger. There was so much going on — so many merchants, craftsmen, and just people running about. The docks were a way off, but Dimitri could see seagulls circling in the distance. </p><p>It had been many years since he had seen the ocean. </p><p>Not thinking about how this was a bad idea, Dimitri scrawled a hasty note — which was difficult since he had broken his desk — and left it on the bed. Satisfied with his work, he peeked outside his door. </p><p>"My king!" The knight on guard was familiar — Dimitri remembered that Lord Lonato had sent him along with his oldest son a few years back. Still, his name eluded Dimitri. "May I be of your assistance?" </p><p>"No thank you, my good knight. I merely am going to see Lord Fraldarius. If anyone asks for me, tell them I shall return in just a moment." Dimitri didn't feel too bad lying. He did not go to see Felix, but instead found it far too easy to just walk out the front doors of the palace. Without his regal ensemble, he supposed he looked just like any other Faerghan knight. </p><p>With very little effort, he was on his way to the city proper. He had no goal in mind, just letting his feet carry him. He didn't bring any coin with him, but he made a note to try as much of the food as possible later. It all smelled divine. </p><p>While he would usually avoid loud areas during one of his headaches, it was better to be among the bustle of people working than the cramped nature of the palace. He could breathe fresh air, could blend into the crowd. He was initially surprised that he didn't have more people staring, but he saw quite a few merchants with the same pale skin and light eyes — Faerghus may not have been friends with Duscur, but merchants would make a living anywhere they could. </p><p>Dimitri found himself in what must have been the blacksmithing quarter, the air growing thick with smoke and everything becoming a bit heavier. He could breathe in the smell of hot metal and hear the clanging of hammers on anvils. In a way, it reminded him of Faerghus — as a boy, his father had wanted him educated not only on using a weapon, but the technique of making one, though he hadn’t learnt the craft in detail. Now, the sound made him long for more peaceful days listening to a blacksmith tell him about folding metal and how the cooling process helped harden a blade.</p><p>“Hey, you there,” a woman called out. Dimitri turned and quickly found himself face-to-face with someone who must have been a city guard. “Are you lost?” She asked, speaking slowly as if uncertain if he knew the language. Dimitri had never been more happy that Duscur’s language was similar enough to Faerghus’s that lessons had come semi-naturally.</p><p>“I am not,” Dimitri said, then paused. He didn’t quite know what to say, not fancying the idea of being escorted back to the palace, so he settled for a hopefully believable lie. “I am looking around.”</p><p>“What are you looking for?” The guard asked. She glanced to his side, which is when Dimitri remembered that he was still wearing his ridiculous ornamental sword. “The delegation is waiting in the palace for the feast, I thought.” </p><p><i>Ah, blast it all</i>.</p><p>“That is correct, but I am looking for something for His Majesty,” Dimitri lied. He hoped that his expression wasn’t too desperate. He never had been a good liar, a fact that all of his friends liked to remind him of at any given opportunity. The guard didn’t seem to notice or did not care, instead adopting a subtle grin. </p><p>“If you seek a gift, you should go to the Molinaros. They are the most skilled in the city. They can make anything that your Majesty could desire.” The guard gestured down the street. “You cannot miss them. They have a golden—” She said a word that Dimitri wasn’t familiar with— “On a sign and their name. Though, their name is written in our script, which is different from yours I believe.”</p><p>“It is,” Dimitri agreed, “But I will not take your time any longer. Thank you for the advice.” So, with a faster than usual step, Dimitri made his way down the cobblestone road towards the Molinaro blacksmiths.</p><p>#</p><p>Dedue was sharpening knives when he heard the bell above the front door ring. It wasn’t some small bell like at a normal store, but rather a hammer that hit a bell with a mighty <i>clang.</i> Dedue paused and, since the forge itself was dying down, he could clearly hear a crash and then—</p><p>“Dammit!” </p><p>Now deeply confused, Dedue walked into the front to see who was swearing in the Faerghus speech. He was only more perplexed when he saw a tall, broad-shouldered man in very fine clothes. The blond looked up at Dedue, stammering an apology. Dedue kept his face blank as he regarded both the man and the vase that had broken after falling on the ground. </p><p>It must have fallen when the man walked in, though the display wasn’t that close to the front door for precisely this sort of reason.</p><p>“I — I can pay for that,” the man said. His Duscur was stilted but Dedue could understand him, which was probably better than Dedue’s own Faerghus speech. </p><p>“Are you all right?” Dedue asked him. The man nodded.</p><p>“Yes, just startled by your… door alarm.” He coughed. “My apologies, I am being rude. My name is — is Felix.” </p><p>“I am Dedue. It is nice to meet you.” Dedue stepped closer, a counter still between him and Felix. “Can I help you?” </p><p>“Yes!” Felix’s face lit up. “I was told you are a blacksmith of great skill.” </p><p>Dedue usually didn’t boast of his talents, but there was a situation for everything. “I am the best blacksmith in the city — besides my sister.” He just watched as Felix walked up to the counter. This close, he could see the brilliant blue of Felix’s eyes. Green and brown were very common in Duscur, but the combination of blue eyes and blond hair was so purely Faerghus that Dedue could laugh. He was handsome, Dedue supposed, in an objective way. A bit thin — then again, Dedue was a blacksmith so he was perhaps not one to talk. </p><p>“Then you could make me something?” Felix said it like it was a question, not a statement. Dedue nodded. “I… do not have any money with me. And I broke your vase.” Felix looked at the item in question, the blush bright across his face.</p><p>“My sister made it, technically,” Dedue replied. Felix turned back, then did a double-take. Dedue felt a pit in his stomach as Felix walked over to the shelves that lined the wall. Sana thought it was silly, but she agreed to let Dedue put some of his experiments up. </p><p>So far, four fixed items sat in individual shelves, mixed between Sana’s unbroken creations. Each of the pieces of pottery had a price next to them on a small written card. Sometimes, someone came in to get a new piece whether for practical reasons or because they liked the colors — Sana did have a good eye for that sort of thing. No one had even looked twice at Dedue’s tests with anything other than confusion.</p><p>Felix gestured towards one of them. “What is this?” </p><p>“A pot,” Dedue replied, probably sounding more sarcastic than he meant. Felix laughed. </p><p>“Well, I can see that. But this — it is gold?” He didn’t sound completely disdainful of the concept at least. Dedue nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. Is it common in Duscur, or is it special?” </p><p>Dedue almost wanted to lie to him, but it felt silly. How could he convince anyone of its worth if he couldn’t even admit that he came up with the concept? </p><p>“I am the only one who does it,” he told Felix. “I am calling it golden joinery — the act of fixing broken pottery with gold.” Dedue was proud of the concept, if he really had to be honest. </p><p>The one Felix investigated was a black and grey bowl, the colors marbled with a lightning bolt of gold shooting down the center and off to the sides in a web-like pattern. It had fallen on accident, knocked aside when Sana and Dedue failed to move around one another successfully. Dedue had taken the time to fix the broken pieces, gluing them together and dusting the joints with gold powder. It was still watertight, still even, just different. </p><p>“It’s beautiful,” Felix murmured. He blushed deeper, turning to Dedue. “But I am distracted. I owe you for the…” He suddenly squatted down to gather the shards. </p><p>Dedue could imagine him cutting his hands open and causing more problems, so he quickly went around the counter and started to help. Thankfully, there were really just two large pieces with a few smaller fragments. Dedue gathered them in his hands, though Felix got one and held it out for Dedue to take.</p><p>“My greatest apologies, really. I promise I’m not usually a brute.” He chuckled nervously. Dedue just nodded as he balanced the scraps in his hands. He went back to the counter, unceremoniously dumping them there. “I do not have any coin with me, but I will return with it. Until then, take this as collateral.” Felix pulled his sword out and placed it on the counter. </p><p>It was a really nice sword. Well, that was putting it lightly. Dedue could tell that it was relatively new, the metal shiny and the blade sharp. Though it was excessively decorated — the guard was in the shape of a falcon with rich sapphires in place of eyes and thin gold filigree highlighting each feather. </p><p>In short, it was probably worth more than three hundred pots, let alone the single one Felix had broken. </p><p>Dedue looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Felix coughed, blushing deeper. The red was highlighted across his entire face, spreading to the very tips of his ears. </p><p>“I do not have anything else,” Felix explained unnecessarily. Dedue could tell that he lacked a coin purse or, really, anything else of worth besides his clothes. “But I will come back and we will talk about you making something for me.”</p><p>This was something Dedue was more familiar with. He reached down, taking a ledger out and flipping to the first free page. He dated the top and wrote out Felix’s name.</p><p>“What are you interested in?” Dedue asked. </p><p>“A sword,” Felix blurted out. Dedue looked at him with a blank expression. “What? Oh, this thing? It is, um, nothing. It’s nothing.”</p><p>“It would take me months to make something of this quality,” Dedue admitted. Felix laughed, reaching a hand up to tighten the cord that kept his hair up. </p><p>“I would like something more in your style. Something fitting Duscur.” Felix adopted a nervous smile. “I will admit, I am not as familiar with the crafts of Duscur beyond what I see in Faerghus, but I am very interested. And you seem to be the best craftsman in the city. At the very least, the most unique.” Felix looked back at the repaired pottery. </p><p>“Thank you,” Dedue replied, finding himself surprised by the earnest nature of Felix’s words. “I will sketch a few designs.” He made a note in the ledger. </p><p>“Excellent.” </p><p>The door behind Dedue opened, Sana entering from the forge.</p><p>“Brother, have you seen — oh. Hello.” Sana eyed Felix warrily, glancing between him and the sword that was still on the counter. “Are you lost?” </p><p>“N-No! My apologies, it is late, is it not?” Felix laughed again, scratching the back of his neck. “I should not keep you any longer. When is a good time to come back?” </p><p>“Come back for what?” Sana asked. </p><p>“He is commissioning a sword,” Dedue explained. “I will have a series of designs for you in three days. Will that suffice?” </p><p>“Yes.” Felix stepped back, then hesitated. “I am a bit busy, but I will return by then or send someone if I can’t make it. Will that work?” </p><p>Dedue nodded. Felix smiled. Despite the fact that he must have been in his twenties, Felix resembled a particularly excited dog. </p><p>“Excellent. Have a good night!” Felix left, closing the door with a loud <i>thud</i>. The walls shook. Another bowl fell off the shelf. Dedue sighed.</p><p>“Who was that?” Sana asked. </p><p>"I am not sure," Dedue replied. </p><p>"Well, I hope he plans on paying for that." Sana looked at the shards on the floor, then at the sword on the counter. "Faerghan left his sword." </p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"And he wants you to make him another one?"</p><p>"I believe so." </p><p>Sana rolled her eyes. "Well, I'll fetch a broom. I suppose you better start designing something for him." As she walked away, she muttered about how strange Faerghus was. Dedue couldn't help but agree. </p><p>#</p><p>Dimitri had a headache. That in of itself was not unusual. The source of his headache, however, was new. He could visualize it, because it was sitting across from him in bright Duscur robes with too many golden rings and a smile that made the hair on the back of Dimitri's neck stick up. The man was named Siddharth and apparently he was the head of Duscur's Economic Committee, which meant that Dimitri had to play nice while also trying to convince Duscur that Faerghus had something to offer besides metal and lumber, both of which Duscur already had in abundance. </p><p>Siddharth was probably a good man. Dimitri really shouldn't begrudge him the opportunity to make the mighty Faerghus ask Duscur, a small nation known for fast ships and fierce warriors, for assistance. Especially since, despite Faerghus's own lack of economic goods, Faerghus was on the way to a great many places with prized goods. But Siddharth also was between Dimitri and a peaceful afternoon, of which Dimitri really craved, so Dimitri had to dislike him a little bit. </p><p>"That is not up for negotiation," Dimitri said for the fifth or sixth time. </p><p>"Everything is up for negotiation," came Siddharth's reply. </p><p>"Faerghus has never taxed Duscur merchants any greater than Adrestian or Alliance merchants. A lower tax rate — no. It cannot be done," Dimitri insisted. "We have already discussed Faerghus paying for two-thirds of a new trading hub between our nations to further increase the amount of trade Duscur is able to accept. Additionally, Faerghus will consider importing more fish and other food supplies from Duscur. In exchange, Duscur will agree to giving Faerghus preferential pricing as well as naval access to any of your docks for the same rate as any Duscur vessel." </p><p>Instinctually, Dimitri glanced at Glenn. It was pointless. Glenn was next to him as a knight only, not as an advisor. In his full armor and helm, Glenn could have been making the silliest face possible and Dimitri wouldn't have the faintest idea. To Dimitri's other side, Felix sighed and shifted ever-so slightly.  </p><p>That did not bode well, but Dimitri could hardly ask him for his advice now. </p><p>Siddharth smiled wider. </p><p>"I will have to consult with my own king, your Majesty, but I believe this is something that can be agreed upon." He stood. His own guard followed him out. </p><p>Glenn trailed a respectful five paces behind Dimitri as he left for his own chambers. Felix was pushing it at three. </p><p>"That was pointless," Felix said as soon as they were in private. </p><p>"Thanks," Dimitri muttered, heading to the water basin. </p><p>"Duscur already allows Faerghus to dock in her harbors. You just negotiated a slightly lower fee without receiving anything in return." Felix sighed, glaring at his brother. "Tell him I'm right."</p><p>Glenn pulled his helmet off and gave Dimitri an apologetic smile. Dimitri grit his teeth, tearing his gaze away so he could splash some water on his face. </p><p>"Technically you haven't signed anything yet," Glenn reminded him. "Just make sure you have the solicitor look at it first, that's what he's here for." </p><p>"Yes, I know," Dimitri said through clenched teeth. He didn't have to look to know that Glenn and Felix were exchanging a look. He wondered if his head would stop throbbing if he bashed it into the water basin hard enough. It was made of metal — surely even his cursed Blaiddyd strength couldn't stop that from harming him? </p><p>Unbidden, he thought of the ridiculous show he had given the poor blacksmith the other night. Dimitri was loath to send someone in his place to settle his own debt, but at the same time he wasn't sure that he could resist spontaneously combusting from sheer embarrassment if he showed his face again. If he hadn't been stupid enough to ask about commissioning a sword, he would be tempted to call it even — surely the ceremonial trinket he left behind could cover any costs that he had incurred? But it felt rather ungentlemanly to ask about something and then fail to materialize for the result. </p><p>Glenn cleared his throat. From his expression, Dimitri guessed it wasn't the first time. </p><p>"What?" Dimitri asked, shaking his head clear.</p><p>"I was wondering if you still need my brother or if he can be excused." Even though Felix was glaring at Glenn, his gaze softened when he looked at Dimitri — if a rock was considered lesser than steel. </p><p>"I have better things to do than coddle you. Our next meeting is in two hours with the Minister of Defense. I'll give you three chances to name what he's in charge of and if you get this wrong, I'm defecting to Adrestia," Felix drawled. </p><p>Dimitri forced a smile. He knew it didn't fool either brother. </p><p>"Thank you for your help this afternoon, Felix. I will see you at the meeting." </p><p>"Right." Felix bowed. "Your Majesty." He nodded towards Glenn. "Brother." He left, boots echoing once he was off the carpeted floor.</p><p>Glenn wasn't able to sit in his armor, but he did lean against the wall once Felix was gone. "It really wasn't that bad. The Minister was spending half the time talking out his rear about crop cycles and moonbeams — none of it matters in the grand scheme of things and he knows it." Glenn meant well, but Dimitri found himself feeling even worse. He was supposed to be king and kings didn't need coddling from childhood friends. </p><p>"I still should be more aware of the situation. There's just — there's so much to learn. I know I've been in lessons for this very moment ever since I was a child, but I still feel woefully unprepared." Dimitri sighed, shaking his head again. "I am certain you have better things to do than listen to my complaints. Ingrid must miss you — I've monopolized all your time."</p><p>"She knows that this is my duty and expects nothing less," Glenn replied. "But you're my friend too, your Majesty. I'd be here even without the armor." Glenn made a face. "Actually, preferably without it. This is very uncomfortable."</p><p>Despite himself, Dimitri laughed. </p><p>"Perhaps my first order of business should have been commissioning new armor for the knights," he joked. "Though I wouldn't want to be considered a flippant king." </p><p>"You would have to be truly terrible to stain the legacy your father left behind, your Majesty. But hey, if you want to get me new armor, why not throw in a lance with that — no point doing anything in half measure." Glenn was smiling though, and Dimitri didn't take him too seriously. Still…</p><p>"Do you really think that I can hope to match my father's reign?" Dimitri asked. </p><p>"Of course. King Lambert, Goddess rest his soul, was a great king and he was like an uncle to me. I think he was one of the best men I've ever met. But you have all of his good qualities and — and more." Glenn recovered from the stumble with a small grimace, but Dimitri would rather let sleeping dogs lie as the saying went. </p><p>He turned his back to the water basin, hands gripping it tighter than strictly necessary. Dimitri managed a weak smile. His hands were leaving indents in the metal. </p><p>“You flatter me, Glenn.”</p><p>“Not at all, your Majesty.” But Glenn was smiling a bit crooked and it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Really, go nuts. You’re the first king of Faerghus to step foot in the capital of Duscur in over three generations. Whatever you want, go for it.” He smirked. “Is this to replace the ceremonial sword you lost?” </p><p>Dimitri blushed. “I — I did not lose it! I left it somewhere and I will get it — soon.”</p><p>Glenn laughed, throwing his head back. The helmet at his feet rolled across the carpet. “Whatever you say, your Majesty. Just get something nice and practical, will you? All this finery is a curse.” </p><p>It was as close to permission as Dimitri would get — not that he needed it, since he was the king — and he would accept that. He scratched the back of his neck, considering how exactly he would get the funds. Did they bring money with them? They had to, as it was certainly unlikely that the Duscur royalty was willing to sponsor half the royal knights and Dimitri’s retainers for several weeks. But then would it put the mission under stress? </p><p>How much would a commissioned sword even cost? Had Dimitri actually just bankrupt the royal coffers in his hubris—</p><p>“Hey,” Glenn said, “I can see that look. You’re overthinking it.” </p><p>“Huh?” Dimitri blinked, looking up at Glenn. </p><p>“If you want a sword or a lance or want to go and buy an entire fleet, do it.” Glenn waved a hand. “You’re the king. Get a note of promise, sign it, and just make sure that you specify the amount.” When Glenn put it like that, it really did seem that simple. </p><p>“Thank you, Glenn.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, your Majesty.”</p><p>#</p><p>Dedue placed the two pieces of the vase together and started to count down in his head. It was the same one that Felix had knocked off the shelf — one of two, technically. This one was a simple cream, taller than it was wide, and with a slightly narrow neck that widened enough to make it artful rather than odd. If it was a little lopsided, well, it was hard to tell now that it was broken. He had salvaged most of the pieces, though he’d have to replace some of them. </p><p>The other piece was a bowl made of a darker clay, almost black with streaks of grey. It was just big enough to be used to hold rice for curry or spices while cooking — or would be, except for the fact that it was split into so many pieces. Gathering them had been an endeavor in and of itself. It would also need some filling — altogether, the most complex piece that he had done to date.</p><p>He internally sighed as the door to the workshop opened, Sana walking in with a handkerchief over her face. Her gloves were covered in soot — fresh soot, as opposed to the layer of soot and ash that had just been absorbed into the leather from use. She raised an eyebrow at him, taking into account the tools that were scattered across his workbench. </p><p>He returned the look. Sana crossed her arms.</p><p>“We are delivering the knives tomorrow, yes?” She asked.</p><p>“We are. I have finished all but ten of them.” Dedue would point to where they were hanging, but his hands were a little occupied. </p><p>Sana shifted from side to side. “And the plates?” </p><p>“Polished and sorted.” Dedue smiled. “I promise that I am not neglecting my duties. I am merely taking a break.” That earned him a snort and a classic Sana eye roll. </p><p>“Of course you are not being lazy. Just don’t think that I cannot see those circles under your eyes.” Sana grabbed her chair and then dragged it in front of her, sitting down in front of Dedue. “Is that one of the ones that guy broke?” </p><p>Dedue nodded. He tentatively released the pieces from his hold. He examined the seam, which was still a bit messy but wouldn’t be too hard to clean up with a bit of care. The binding part was actually the hardest. He was still balancing the exact ratio of binding paste and flour. He wasn’t sure why wheat flour worked so well, but it was better than sand and prettier than ash so he would continue to use it. </p><p>After gluing the pieces back together, they would have to dry in a special box that Dedue kept under his desk. Once dried, he would scrape the excess binding off with a knife and polish it to smoothness. Then the crack — or in the case of a missing shard, the filled area — would be repainted with the same binding material. This process Dedue still had some difficulty with, finding it challenging to measure the right amount to use. His biggest success so far had come from switching to applying the binding with a thin paint brush rather than the iron needle he had been using. </p><p>The lacquer would catch the gold powder that Dedue sprinkled on, giving the piece the finished form. Dedue still wasn’t sure how it would hold up over time, but there was no way of knowing without time. </p><p>“Why are you still doing this?” Sana asked, voice surprisingly gentle considering the amount of teasing and playful jabs that she launched at him on a regular basis. </p><p>Dedue frowned. “I do not like to waste material. If we threw out every broken bowl, then what would be the point of using those resources?” </p><p>“You’ve used more gold and time fixing this than if I took the shards to the brick maker and he ground them to dust.” </p><p>“I want to make art,” Dedue tried, eyeing the small pouch of gold dust before glancing back at her. </p><p>“You made a gold and glass wind chime last week on a lark.” Sana leaned forward. “It makes rainbows when the light shines through it.”</p><p>“Then perhaps,” Dedue replied, not making eye contact, “I do not want to throw away something that can be repaired.” </p><p>“Fix it with clay or med. Let me repair it using the traditional methods.” Sana smiled faintly. “It’s just a pot.” </p><p>“Technically, this is a vase.”</p><p>“Technically, it’s trash.” </p><p>The two siblings looked at one another. Sana raised an eyebrow. Dedue kept his face blank. Sana stuck her tongue out. It was so absurd to see on a fully grown woman's face that Dedue couldn't help but laugh, thinking of all the other times she had taunted and teased him growing up. </p><p>He leaned back, crossing his arms. </p><p>"I think they look more beautiful like this."</p><p>"What?" Sana wrinkled her nose. "With the broken bits emphasized?" </p><p>"Yes." Dedue looked at the lacquer that waited to be used, at the shards of the bowl he had not yet fixed. "It isn't about how it was broken. It's about the process to fix it." </p><p>Sana shook her head, but she was smiling. </p><p>"You're strange, brother," she said. "Very strange." </p><p>"Well, we are family." Dedue leaned back down, picking his brush up. He had a bowl to fix. </p><p>#</p><p>The bell at the door rang when Dedue was shining a plate — one of three dozen ordered the other month, now all completed and just waiting for polishing. He waited to hear if Sana was going to get it, but she was still working on something if the familiar rhythm of her hammer on an anvil was any indication. At least his task could be paused — he brushed his hands off on a nearby rag before going to the front room. </p><p>"Oh, hello," Dedue said, somehow not surprised to see Felix there. "Did you come to discuss your commission?" </p><p>"Yes!" Felix waved, then stopped halfway through, dropping his arm awkwardly to his side. He walked over and placed a bag of coins on the counter. "I wanted to also pay you for your trouble with the pots — is this enough?" </p><p>Dedue went between asking for clarification and just accepting that Felix was trying to give him fifty coins for two broken pots and some awkward conversation. He took three of the golden Faerghan coins out of the bag before sliding the rest back to Felix. </p><p>"Oh, you can have all of it," Felix said. "I — you can call it a down payment for the sword." </p><p>"I won't accept a down payment until you have approved the designs." Dedue reached down. He took a moment to find it — <i>gods, Sana really stuck her spare hammer down there?</i> — but soon withdrew the ledger where he had written down Felix's order. Inside the pages were also the sketches and material concepts that Dedue had come up with.</p><p>Dedue was under no illusion over his artistic ability, as there was a reason he preferred to work with his hands on molding something more physical, but he could communicate his ideas well enough. Felix's eyes went wide as Dedue spread the designs out. He didn't look at all of them, focusing on the one in the center. Privately, Dedue was pleased. </p><p>It was his favorite of the three, an elegant sword that curved and then broadened towards the end. Duscur called it a scimitar, a style that he knew Faerghus did not use. The hilt would be wrapped with calf hide, patterned with blue and gold trim for Faerghus and Duscur respectively. The blade was simple, practical, but the sheath had designs on both sides — a lion and griffon on one and a bear and falcon on the other. A perfect balance between Duscur and Faerghus, an ambitious project that certainly would take quite a bit of time and cost <i>plenty</i> of gold. </p><p>"This is amazing," Felix said, fingers hovering over the picture. He didn't even glance at the concepts with jewelled hilts or impractical, etched blades. "Truly. You — you really can make this? How long would it take you?" </p><p>Dedue smiled, not too bashful to take a compliment about his work. Felix mirrored his expression, his bright blue eyes sparkling from the oil lights that illuminated the room. </p><p>"I can. I will be frank, it will not be easy. I have several other orders that I must assist my sister with, and there is no rushing craftsmanship." Dedue crossed his arms. "I can complete it in one, two months. Will the delegation be here that long?" </p><p>Felix froze, mouth halfway open. Dedue cleared his throat, adding quickly,</p><p>"I only meant — not to assume—"</p><p>"No, no, you're right." Felix let out a half-laugh. "I… I'm just part of the group. Nothing important." He reached into his jacket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. “How much for the sword?” </p><p>“When do you need it done?”</p><p>“Two months,” Felix replied with more confidence than Dedue expected. “We should be here for at least two months. Sorry, do you have a quill?”</p><p>Dedue held one out. His fingers brushed against Felix’s gloves, smearing some polish on the fabric. Instinctively, Dedue murmured an apology.</p><p>“None needed.” Felix smiled a little wider. “Will five thousand be enough?” </p><p>“Excuse me?” Dedue knew his mouth had just dropped open a little, which was unfortunately unprofessional of him, but he couldn’t think of a better reaction. Five thousand was far too much, especially accounting for the difference between Faerhgan and—</p><p>“Oh, my apologies. Is that too little? Would six thousand be more acceptable?” Felix laughed nervously. “I’m afraid I’ve never really done this before.” </p><p>“No, no, five thousand is okay!” Dedue hastily said. He watched as Felix wrote in the amount on the note of promise. It was already signed and sealed with the seal of King Blaiddyd — whoever Felix was, Dedue doubted that he was <i>actually</i> unimportant. Dedue could respect wanting some level of anonymity, though, and didn’t want to push the topic. </p><p>Felix placed the quill down. He shook the paper a few times to help the ink dry, then held it out for Dedue. His expression was wide and earnest. </p><p>“Thank you,” Dedue said, for lack of something else to say. The paper felt thin under his fingers.</p><p>“Of course. I am very intrigued to see what the best blacksmith in Duscur can produce.” Felix laughed again. “Hopefully I will never have to use it, but at least it will be a good display piece. Oh, could I make one request?” </p><p>“Yes.” Dedue would do a lot of things for the amount of money Felix was offering, artistic integrity notwithstanding. </p><p>“The lion… Could you replace it with a wolf? That is, ah, closer to my family’s own, hm, I would use the word heraldry.” </p><p>Dedue wasn’t sure what the word <i>heraldry</i> meant — it was a Faerghan word — but he could etch a wolf onto a scabbard as well as the next blacksmith. He nodded. Felix looked relieved. </p><p>“Is there anything else?” </p><p>“Brother, who is it? If it’s the Singhs, tell them that—” Sana opened the door, sticking her head in the front room. Her hair was pulled back so it didn’t get in her face while she worked, but a few strands had fallen out and were now wild, sticking out at all sorts of funny angles. She looked from dedue to Felix, recognition brightening her eyes. “Oh, you’re back.”</p><p>“Hello,” Felix replied. “I am commissioning your brother — and you too, I suppose, for a sword.”</p><p>“Nice.” Sana came over, peering over Dedue’s shoulder by standing on the tips of her toes. “That’s a good sketch. You are getting better, brother.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Dedue passed the note of promise to Sana, so she was aware of the situation before saying anything too insulting. </p><p>“Well then,” Sana murmured, sticking the note under the table. “Are you close with his Majesty?” </p><p>Felix started coughing so violently that Dedue was actually frightened that he was choking. He held a hand up, stopping either of them from helping him. </p><p>“I — I am fine. My apologies—” Felix smacked himself on the chest, a rumble building in his throat. “I suppose you could say that I am — I am fairly close to his Majesty. But we are not friends, per se.”</p><p>Sana hummed. Dedue was foolish enough to think that was it.</p><p>“I will begin work immediately. If I finish it early, then I will let you know. And of course, you are welcome to stop by and check on progress—”</p><p>“The king’s helmet, the one with the wings — is that a family heirloom or something?” Sana interrupted. Felix blushed all the way up to the tips of his ears.</p><p>“I believe so — why do you ask?” </p><p>“If he wants something better or newer, just ask.” Sana crossed her arms and smiled, but it was Sana so it looked somewhere between a smile and a sneer. Dedue help back a sigh. “It’s a good design, but it is very old, yes? We can make it better.” </p><p>“I think what Sana is trying to say,” Dedue added before Sana could get them arrested for offending an ambassador or noble or whatever, “Is that even the best crafted pieces have an end date.” </p><p>Thankfully, Felix just nodded. He had a startlingly serious expression.</p><p>“I do understand. I do not wish to intrude on you further, but I will let the king know. Thank you.” His gaze softened as he met Dedue’s eyes. “I look forward to seeing what you make.” Without another work, he gave them both a shallow bow and then left.</p><p>Sana whistled. “Well, I think you will not have much time for your experiments.” She pat him on the back. “And I think that you have an admirer.” </p><p>“What?” Dedue recoiled in shock, though admittedly not disgust. Sana just laughed, going back to the forge and letting him stew in his own confusion. </p><p>#</p><p>Dimitri sat perfectly straight, his hands delicately holding the silverware so he would not break it while he cut his fish open. The food was probably delicious — actually, it most certainly was since both Felix and Glenn had managed to finish their plates without a lick of hesitation — but Dimitri was too nervous to taste it. This wasn’t even a formal dinner by most standards. The Duscur royal family was predisposed so Dimitri was beginning his tour of the Duscur nobility. </p><p>They were not bad people, he was certain, but it was hard enough having a conversation normally. When both sides were sitting at a grand table and surrounded by guards, dancers, and musicians, Dimitri’s focus was stretched very thin. </p><p>“We have not had the chance to tour the city yet,” Felix stated in slow but steady Duscur. He had dressed well. Rodrigue would be proud of him. Dimitri wondered how that made Felix feel. </p><p>“You should. Particularly the gardens. They are very beautiful this time of the year,” their host replied. </p><p>The man in question was a noble named Rish Sadachar, apparently the father of half a dozen children. Each was sitting at the table, ranging from his eldest daughter who was probably older than Dimitri to his youngest son, who was still being cared for by a nanny. They were all well-behaved, which was more than Dimitri could have said when he and Felix were five.</p><p>“Your Majesty, are you one who listens to music?” One of Lord Sadachar’s daughters asked. Dimitri looked over at her and blinked. “Ah, do you enjoy…” She glanced at one of the men playing a stringed instrument that Dimitri wasn’t familiar with.</p><p>“Oh, yes. I like music on occasion,” Dimitri told her, though he really wasn’t very cultured by most people’s judgement.</p><p>“My daughter plays many instruments, including the piano. The piano is not something that we usually learn, but I thought it good for her to know everything she could about our neighbor.” Lord Sadachar grinned. “She can play tonight and show you her skill.”</p><p>“Certainly. We would enjoy that.” Dimitri’s smile faltered a bit as Felix noticeably sighed. “Though we cannot stay too late. Unfortunately, we have quite a strict schedule.”</p><p>“Of course, of course.” Lord Sadachar’s expression did not falter. “We have not even gotten to the last course, though. So I hope you do not have to leave too soon.”</p><p>Dimitri felt Felix’s annoyance but he couldn’t think of a polite way to decline, so he just nodded. The idea of more courses made his stomach churn in protest, though, and he wondered what the gentlemanly way to ask for the bathroom was. Or did he just stand up and demand it? No one had ever talked about <i>this</i> part of dinner.</p><p>Glenn cleared his throat, setting his silverware down. His plate was all but licked clean, even the vegetables which had been sautéed in some kind of sauce. He also had been helping himself to the wine, which was too sweet even for Dimitri’s dulled taste buds. </p><p>“The food is excellent, my lord, but I will confess I keep getting distracted by your, ah, decorations.” Glenn gestured with one hand. The room really was opulently decorated, as if someone had put up all the added pieces without realizing what was already there.</p><p>Personally, Dimitri actually liked the Duscur aesthetic. There was less emphasis on people in their art, instead more animals or patterns that were present. They also had tapestries, but the colors were brighter and just… happier. Back at home, everything was about the knights or Loog and Kyphon — ancestors and distant relatives or even old mentors for Dimitri, but there was nothing whimsical about hearing stories about the deaths of people who looked just like him.</p><p><i>Maybe that’s why you like it here so much</i>, Dimitri considered, <i>no one treats you like some descendant of a legend. You’re just a normal human king.</i> It was ridiculous to even think about.</p><p>“Thank you,” Lord Sadachar was saying, though his voice sounded like he was speaking from underwater. “The best blacksmiths in the nation, the Molinaros, made these candlesticks for my daughter’s wedding. The plates were part of her betrothal gift, also made by the same blacksmiths. If you appreciate good metal work, you may want to visit them yourself.” </p><p>Hearing <i>Molinaro</i> made Dimitri pay attention, then fade out at the same moment. He had visited Dedue a few times since the original commission request, but it was difficult. He could only make so many excuses to slip away from his personal guard, especially since Rodrigue sent a letter to Felix warning him that there were some nobles who were unhappy about him being in charge. </p><p><i>Have his Majesty take care,</i> Rodrigue had written to his second son, <i>I can protect his interests here, but there are some who think they know better than I.</i></p><p>To Glenn, he had reminded him to wash his hair regularly.</p><p>“Well, you know us Faerghans. We always appreciate a good sword.” Glenn smiled. He was charming enough to make one of Lord Sadachar’s daughters giggle, even though Glenn wasn’t even glancing at her. “Thank you for the recommendation, my lord.”</p><p><i>I wonder if Dedue made these</i>, Dimitri thought, staring at the nearest candlestick. It had two prongs and was designed so the base appeared to be a ram or ibex — some kind of creature with horns, but not a deer because Dimitri could recognize a deer. The horns held the thick wax, which slowly dripped down the golden stems. The details really were stunning. Dimitri was no stranger to good craftsmanship, but Dedue seemed to breathe life and beauty into everything he touched. </p><p>“Your Majesty?” Felix said, voice rising. Dimitri blinked at him. He got a withering glare before Felix returned to a stone-cold neutrality. “I asked if you were ready for the next course.”</p><p>Dimitri looked down at his plate. He had cut through the fish and had cut a deep gash into the plate. Thank the goddess the knife hadn’t broken. </p><p>“I think that we should move on,” he quickly said, pushing his remaining bits of food over his mistake. “We would not want to miss dessert, after all.” </p><p>#</p><p>The sun was warm against Dedue’s face, the buzz of bees and flutter of bird wings a welcome respite from the ringing of hammers or the burn of the furnace. Dedue would not trade his career for anything, was proud to continue the family trade while elevating it to something that even his own father could never have imagined, but he also couldn’t help but enjoy his rest day. The best of craftsmen took inspiration from the outside world, and that was why Dedue spent at least one day a week at the gardens.</p><p>“She still has not asked you yet? By the gods, you two have been courting for how long now?” Armad cried, earning him a glare from a group of older men playing backgammon. Reza rolled her eyes, nedging Dedue with her elbow.</p><p>“Tell him that he is being too hasty,” she said.</p><p>“You are being too hasty,” Dedue told Armad. </p><p>“No, I am not!” Armad shouted. “Sadya has liked you since forever, Reza. Is she just too scared to ask? Does she not have a big enough dowery?” </p><p>“No one does a dowery anymore, not unless you’re a noble,” Reza argued. She tangled her fingers in several strands of her hair, the wavy locks tumbling down though her hair was partially covered by a headscarf. “My father would be too unreasonable, I am certain. He still thinks that I should marry Majid.”</p><p>Even Dedue, who liked Majid, frowned. Armad exclaimed several choice words in disbelief.</p><p>“Young man, this is a garden!” Someone chided him.</p><p>“Sorry!”</p><p>“You are going to get us kicked out. Again,” Dedue murmured. “Next time, we will meet at the docks.”</p><p>“No, no, you like it here. I will be quiet.” Armad tucked his hands under his armpits. “But only if you tell us more about Sadya,” he added, glancing at Reza.</p><p>She laughed, shaking her head. “I never bother you this much about Fatima—”  </p><p>“He has not even asked Fatima on a date yet,” Dedue teased with a smile of his own. </p><p>“Not fair,” Armad argued, breaking his vow of silence in less than ten seconds. It was still ten seconds more of silence than they usually got. “She is just — she is very busy with her studies. I cannot interrupt her or her father will skin me and wear it as a vest.” </p><p>“That is very specific,” Dedue mused. </p><p>“Yeah, it is.” Armad, for once, did not explain. </p><p>“How has the forge been?” Reza asked Dedue, changing away from discussions of her love life. “Now that the ambassadors are here, are you less busy?”</p><p>Dedue debated the merits of telling them about Felix. He shrugged, which was an understatement. Though there was only so much work he could do on the sword in a day, it was a lengthy process. Even several weeks later, he felt like he had little to show for it. He was still assisting Sana with other projects, of course, though his own attempts at furthering the golden joinery process was sadly going unattended.</p><p>It was worth it, however, when he saw the look of pure delight every time Felix visited to see him for updates. </p><p>“What about your fancy pots?” Armad asked, because even if they didn’t understand, at least Dedue’s friends were kind about it. “Have you made any others? My grandma liked it.”</p><p>“Really?” Dedue questioned, eyes widening.</p><p>“Yeah. She does not think that you should use it, but she says that it’s a good art piece.”</p><p>“Ah.” Dedue supposed he should be happy that at least someone found it attractive, which was a step up from most of the world. “Well, I have still been busy. There is a commission and it has been taking the majority of my time.” </p><p>Reza nodded. “Well, I am happy that you could escape for long enough to sit with your friends.”</p><p>“Next time, you should invite Sadya. Dedue and I can go on a walk to get food, you two can spend time together, maybe pull out a ring—” Armad yelped when Reza smacked him on the shoulder. “Don’t hurt me,” he cried.</p><p>“Stop being such a nosey boy.” Reza rolled her eyes again. “Sadya and I are perfectly happy with our relationship. You are not allowed to comment on it for the rest of the afternoon, or I will tell Fatima that you were the one who broke her window that night.”</p><p>Armad paled. “You would not!”</p><p>“I would.”</p><p>Before Reza could really emphasize just how much she would, a great clamor came from the entrance to the garden. Dedue craned his neck to see a squadron of Duscur elite warriors and Faerghus royal knights march in. They surrounded a group that was instantly recognizable. The prince of Duscur accompanied three Faerghan men — Felix and two people who looked so similar that they had to be brothers. There was also a blonde woman in light armor who followed behind a few feet. She seemed on edge, as if an assassin was going to appear if she looked away for too long.</p><p>“Which one do you think is the king?” Armad murmured.</p><p>“Don’t stare,” Reza hissed at him. “They probably will be gone soon. Just do not draw attention to yourself — oh, what am I saying? Of course you will.”</p><p>But Armad was actually frowning at Dedue. </p><p>“Are you okay? You look pale.” </p><p>Dedue was doing his best to be as small as possible. Reza was between him and the Faerghan contingent, and certainly they had better things to do than notice him, but he couldn’t help but fear that something would happen if Felix saw him. </p><p>“I am fine,” he forced himself to say.</p><p>“You do not look it.” Reza was also frowning. “Are you — are you hiding?” She raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“I am not,” Dedue argued, even as he mentally debated the merit of walking out the garden through the other exit. “I just feel — cold.”</p><p>“Dedue, it’s the middle of summer.” </p><p>“Then I must have a chill.” Dedue froze. Felix was looking right at him, eyes wide. The others were talking but Felix had eyes only for him. </p><p>Slowly, Felix raised a hand and waved at Dedue. Without knowing what better to do, Dedue returned the gesture. Felix coughed, blushing vibrantly. One of his companions noticed and leaned closer to talk while the blonde woman glared at Dedue. Armad looked at what he was seeing, eyes slowly widening. </p><p>“Are you two—”</p><p>“Oh my gods,” Reza exclaimed, throwing her hands out, “I cannot believe the time. Armad, I insist you walk me home. I have been out far too late.”</p><p>Armad frowned. “But we’ve only been out for an hour. We are going to get dinner later, the three of us. Besides, I want to know if Dedue—”</p><p>Whatever he wanted to know, he would not get an answer to, because a few things happened at once. In his panic, Dedue tried to put his hand over Armad’s mouth. He missed and almost pushed Armad off the bench. Armad yelped, drawing more attention towards their group. Dedue desperately prayed that one of the gods would come and turn him into a bird or let him melt into nothingness — at this point, he’d even take being blasted into ashes.</p><p>“They are looking at us,” Reza murmured, though her back was to the Faerghans. “Why did you have to draw attention?”</p><p>“It’s not my fault,” Armad argued. “Dedue should have told us that he knew one of the ambassadors.”</p><p>“I think he is a noble lord,” Dedue said, only realizing a moment later that he was digging a deeper hole for himself.</p><p>Armad crowed with laughter. “Oh, a noble! Dedue Molinaro, I never would have guessed.” He slapped Dedue on the back. “Going to leave us for better pastures, huh?” </p><p>Dedue prayed that this was over quickly, preferably with as little fanfare as possible. Still, he was a little sad when Felix was essentially ushered away with the rest of the Faerghans. It was… Pleasant seeing Felix somewhere not in the forge and to know that he still acknowledged his presence, that Dedue wasn’t just some blacksmith. </p><p>More tragic, however, was the fact that Armad’s comments did not relent for the rest of the afternoon.</p><p>#</p><p>Dimitri checked that his shirt was smooth and his cloak was crisp before walking into the blacksmith. He was much better at not slamming the door open or closed, used to how much force it took to not shake the walls. </p><p>“It’s just me,” Dimitri called, announcing his presence so Dedue or Sana knew they didn’t have to rush out. There was one occasion where he had apparently distracted Dedue during his golden joinery process, resulting in an afternoon’s work being ruined. Dimitri hadn’t a way to apologize properly so he just endeavored for it to never happen again.</p><p>Still, he couldn’t help but eagerly await Dedue’s entrance, smiling broadly when the man in question finally walked out of the main forge. Dedue’s hair was up, as usual, and there was a smear of soot on his cheek that Dimitri wanted to brush off with his fingers. He resisted the urge, instead giving Dedue a small wave. </p><p>“Hello, Felix,” Dedue said. </p><p>“Hello. I hope I am not bothering you too late,” Dimitri replied. He strode up to the counter, though his bag felt heavy with every step. Dedue shook his head.</p><p>“Not at all.” Dedue hesitated, then straightened with conviction. “Do you wish to see what I was working on?” </p><p>Dimitri nodded eagerly. He expected Dedue to go and fetch his latest project, so he was stunned when Dedue opened the door that led to the forge and motioned for Dimitri to follow. Powerless to do anything else, Dimitri followed with baited breath. </p><p>He had been in forges before, but they were always active and full of workers making practical items like swords or spears. This one was smaller, more precise. There weren’t rows and rows of swords hanging down, but rather hammers and pliers and other tools of the trade. The bellows were quiet, the fires nothing more than embers.</p><p>But while Dimitri expected to see a sword or a candlestick, Dedue led him further into the building and into a back room. A workshop, of sorts. Dedue went to a table with pieces of broken pottery, a small container of paste, and a brush. There was a piece of worn leather set down, presumably to keep the surface clean. Dedue coughed as he gestured towards it.</p><p>“It is almost complete. I hope to finish it this week.” Dedue scratched the back of his neck. “It probably does not look like much, but I hope that it will be nicer once complete. I have never had to fit so many pieces back together.” </p><p>The piece was a bowl. Small and squat, broken into many shards that were delicately placed out on the table. Some were pasted back together with some kind of binding, though the rest were still set aside. It was clearly incomplete, but Dimitri knew what he was looking at.</p><p>“I am sure it will be beautiful.” He stepped closer, but was too scared to touch. There was no guarantee that he wouldn’t just rebreak it. “What do you use to fill it with gold?” </p><p>“It is gold powder,” Dedue admitted. “I place a thin layer of the lacquer and dust it with gold. It is waterproof, solid, and just as bright.” </p><p>“It is amazing,” Dimitri murmured. He looked at Dedue with a wide smile. “You are amazing.” Dimitri blushed. “Ah, I only meant — your skill! And talent! And the imagination to create something so wonderful — you must be proud.”    </p><p>“You flatter me, but thank you. This is a passion project, nothing less.” Dedue wasn’t meeting Dimitri’s eyes. “I am glad that you think something so silly has merit.”</p><p>“It’s a blend of art and practicality. Besides, there’s something nice about not just throwing away the pieces.” Dimitri swallowed, aware how silly he sounded. “That is to say, it would be a shame to waste material. You give it another life. A purpose again.” He laughed. “Or maybe I am just too invested in some pottery.”</p><p>Dedue cracked a smile. “Perhaps we could all use a bit more investment in pottery.”</p><p>Dimitri nodded.</p><p>“Regardless, thank you, really. I am honored that you would show it to me before you are done.” He didn’t know what else to say. </p><p>Silence stretched but it was not uncomfortable, not really. Dimitri could just hear crickets chirping outside, the sound of a group of friends walking down the street. It was so different from Faerghus, yet it was the same. Dimitri realized, in that moment, that he hadn’t been homesick at all. Perhaps it was having his closest companions with him, or perhaps it was because home was so difficult without his father, but there was part of him that wondered if it was just because Duscur was somehow less intense.</p><p>Yes, he was here to organize a deal between the two nations in a way that hadn’t been brokered for centuries, but at least the nobles were up-front and the royal family here liked him. There wasn’t a royal family in Faerghus, not except for Dimitri. </p><p>Dimitri would miss Duscur, he knew, when he was gone. </p><p>“I, uh, brought you something.” Dimitri reached into his bag. He had actually borrowed it from one of the knights, but he’d give it back tomorrow. He handed Dedue his gift — a bottle of fine wine, the most expensive that the knight Dimitri had sent could find in the market. “It is a gift. I hope it is welcomed.”</p><p>Dedue’s face went from confused to bemused, which wasn’t what Dimitri was hoping for, but it could have been worse.  </p><p>"This is kind of you, but you do not know what this is, do you?" </p><p>"It is wine, correct?" Dimitri hoped it was wine. He really, <i>really</i> hoped it was wine. </p><p>"It is, but it is used for religious ceremonies only." Dedue laughed softly, but there was no malicious tone. "For example, things like weddings."</p><p>"Oh!" Dimitri could feel his face burning all the way to his ears. "I — I apologize. I did not mean any offense. I — I just wanted to ask if you, perhaps, would be interested in sharing a dinner with me?" </p><p><i>Oh Goddess, do me a favor and strike me down where I stand</i>, Dimitri thought. </p><p>But Dedue was smiling and his eyes were soft. Dimitri let himself fantasize about getting dinner and taking a walk through the streets of Eridu after, about maybe holding hands and sharing longing looks. Possibly, if Dimitri was bold enough, a kiss under the stars. </p><p>"I am free tomorrow, if you are." Dedue cradled the wine in his hands.</p><p>"Oh! I — I am not." Dimitri hadn't actually thought he would get this far. "But the night after I will be free. I can — I can meet you at the gardens? Though I admit, I do not know where it is pleasant to eat." </p><p>Dedue nodded. "That is fine. I will think of a place. Do you enjoy spicy food?" </p><p>Dimitri could hardly taste spices half the time, so he tilted his head yes but not enthusiastically. Dedue's smile grew.</p><p>"Perfect. Can you meet at sixteen bells?"</p><p>"That would work for me, yes," Dimitri replied. </p><p>"I look forward to it." Dedue fidgeted with the ribbon around the bottle's neck. "Did you still want to look at the sword?" </p><p>"Oh, yes. You are very close to finishing — I am impressed with how fast you have been working on it." Dimitri rubbed the back of his head. "I imagine you are busy with many orders. I hope that mine has not been causing you any stress."</p><p>Dedue shook his head. He placed the wine on his workbench and then led Dimitri back through the forge. </p><p>"Not at all," he said as he delicately navigated past an anvil and grinder. "I hope to finish the blade tomorrow. Your scabbard should be completed within a few weeks." </p><p>The sword, Dimitri saw, was hanging off the ceiling. It was still blunt and the sheath was unpolished, but he could see the shapes of animals starting to appear from the metal. When finished, he knew it would be one-of-a-kind, the type of piece that even Felix would be jealous of — and Felix did have the best taste in swords. </p><p>"Thank you," Dimitri said. "It is perfect." He met Dedue's eyes, hoping that the smile on Dedue's face was because of him. "You truly deserve the title of best blacksmith in Duscur."</p><p>"Do not let my sister hear you," Dedue teased, but his smile grew. </p><p>"I would say you are the best in Fódlan. No person in Faerghus could blend such styles together — and none have come up with the golden joinery." Dimitri coughed. "Really, I mean it earnestly. Not just to flatter."</p><p>"Well, I accept the compliment." Dedue ran a thumb over the surface of an anvil. "I did not always want to be a blacksmith, but now I cannot imagine anything else."</p><p>"What did you want to do?" Dimitri asked, because any information about Dedue was information to be prized. </p><p>Dedue laughed. "I wanted to be a baker. I was very good, but villages in Duscur all have specialties and I would have to have left home to learn properly." He shrugged. "I wished to stay with my family and I took up their trade." </p><p>Dimitri could remember learning about how Duscur handled their crafts, which he thought was fascinating, but he supposed it was not too different from how apprenticeships worked in Faerghus. He had difficulty imagining Dedue make, but…</p><p>"Someday, then, I will have to pay you to bake something for me." Dimitri's smile faltered. He wouldn't be in Duscur forever and there were certainly many bakers in Faerghus. But he didn't want to dwell, smiling again and trying to push away the sudden pit that opened up in his stomach. "I am sure you are still very good." </p><p>If Dedue noticed anything was amiss, he didn't say it. </p><p>"Thank you. I mostly make bread and practical meals nowadays, but Sana is not allowed in the kitchen if there is an open flame." </p><p>"You work in a forge all day?" </p><p>"Yes, and it takes a different hand to bake a cake than to make a sword." Well, Dimitri couldn't argue with that. Dedue rubbed his chin, thumb leaving a streak of ash. </p><p>Without thinking, Dimitri reached up and brushed it away. His hand froze as his fingers grazed Dedue's skin. He was warm even through Dimitri's gloves. Dedue's eyes were wide. Dimitri really hoped the Goddess was listening when he begged her to blast him into smithereens. </p><p>Dimitri took his hand back, grabbing the strap of his bag like a lifeline. "My apologies," he said, certain that he had just ruined everything.. "I — I do not know what came over me, I should not have—"</p><p>"It is okay. I do not mind." Dedue's smile was soft. His eyes were warm. Or maybe the forge was doing funny things to Dimitri's head. "You are a very handsome man, Felix. Is there no one else that has your eyes?" </p><p>It was like dumping a bucket of cold water over Dimitri's head. Of course — Dedue didn't know who he was. This was all a lie. It was doomed to end. Dimitri was cursed to forever be alone — but wasn't that something he had known ever since he was a child? </p><p>"No one else," Dimitri said, though his tongue felt like lead. "I — I apologize. I must go — it is later than I thought." </p><p>Dedue nodded. "I understand. Please, walk safe." </p><p>"I will." Dimitri still lingered. "I look forward to — to our — to dinner." </p><p>Dedue's smile was a breath of fresh air. </p><p>#</p><p>The gardens were beautiful at night. They lit up with candles and oil lamps with different colored glass and there were magic lights that floated in the sky. Dedue was hardly the only person in nice clothes, but he couldn't help but feel self-conscious. His trousers were a navy cloth with gold and red trim, his tunic was one that, according to Sana, brought out his eyes. He had also put in his earrings, which he usually left out because they could get in the way when he worked. </p><p>He had also allowed Reza to braid his hair and thread flowers through it, though he had refused to admit that he was going to dinner with the same Faerghan that she had seen him with earlier in the month. She had still given him a knowing look before sending him on his way. </p><p>Which was how Dedue was standing in the city garden, watching couples and families meander through the pathways. He didn't know exactly where Felix would meet him, but he supposed that standing at the front entrance was a good enough idea. </p><p>"Mr. Molinaro, you're out late," a voice called out. Dedue turned, smiling at his friend.</p><p>"Majid, what did you do to get assigned a night shift?" Dedue teased, reaching out a hand. </p><p>Majid, who was too high up the ranks to be doing a night guard post, shrugged as he clasped his hand around Dedue's wrist — Dedue returned the motion with a smile. </p><p>"I am assisting one of the trainees. He had to go back to his home village for a week — his grandmother is ill." Majid raised an eyebrow. "Who are you waiting for?"</p><p>"No one." Dedue flushed, scratching the back of his head. Majid just stared at him. "Why must I be waiting for someone?" </p><p>"Well, you're wearing your nice clothes, your earrings, it's almost sixteenth bell, and you just looked like your Nana caught you kissing someone behind the temple." Majid grinned, crossing his arms. "You do not have to tell me, but I hope that the person is worth it." </p><p>Dedue thought about the expression Felix had given him, how earnest and nervous he had been when asking Dedue out. It was odd, to think that Dedue really was interested in not only a Faerghan but a noble. But there was a charm, an allure even, to Felix. One beyond the immediately apparent. </p><p>"He is," Dedue replied. </p><p>"Good." Majid slapped Dedue on the back. "You deserve happiness, my friend." </p><p>"Thank you." Dedue hadn't thought of it that way. He wasn't missing anything from life, but Felix did add something different to look forward towards every other day. Dedue would be lying if he said he hadn't eagerly awaited their dinner. "I hope tonight is peaceful for you as well." </p><p>Majid nodded and then resumed his patrol, walking off into the gardens again. Dedue waited, enjoying how the flowers smelled in the night air. </p><p>He was still waiting when Majid came back around on his next rotation an hour later, earning a concerned look. </p><p>"I am sure he is just late. He has a very busy schedule," Dedue said. Majid said nothing, but the look on his face was more than enough. </p><p>Dedue waited another hour before he left. </p><p>Sana was still up at the forge, the night not yet old enough for sleep to take her. She sat up as he walked into the tiny space that passed as their living and dining area. The oil light cast strange shadows across the wall.</p><p>"You are back early," Sana said, frown darkening her face. "Did he—" </p><p>"He did not come." Dedue went to his room, barely remembering to take his boots off at the door before stomping across the floor. He threw his door open with great prejudice, yanking his earrings from their place. </p><p>"Dedue?" Sana followed him, lingering by the doorway. She watched as he failed to pull his shirt off, struggling with the ties on the front. "Brother, do you want to talk about it?"</p><p>"No," Dedue spat. He winced as the collar tore. It would be a pain to repair. "Dammit." He managed to rend the shirt from his body, tossing it aside.</p><p>Frustration and bitterness overflowed and all he could do was sit on his bed, knees giving out as soon as he touched the fabric. Dedue buried his face in his hands, not crying because he would not let himself. <i>It was nothing</i>, he tried to tell himself. <i>Just a mistake.</i> </p><p>He barely noticed Sana walk over. She sat next to Dedue, pulling him into a hug. Even though he was taller, he still felt small as she held him. He could barely wrap his arms around her, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. </p><p>"I'm sorry, brother. I will go to the palace and strangle him with my own hands," Sana promised, but Dedue could tell that her heart wasn't in it. Dedue just shrugged, squeezing her tighter. </p><p>"It is fine," he lied. "I am certain that it is a misunderstanding or a mistake." </p><p>"The only mistake is his," Sana replied. "I… I did think that he liked you," she added, softer. </p><p><i>I thought so as well</i>, Dedue thought. He had nothing more to say. </p><p>#</p><p>Dedue woke up feeling sad. He did not usually wake up feeling this way, and was uncertain what could have caused it before remembering the night prior. He groaned, rolling over to press his face in his pillow. If he could smother himself, then he would not have to worry about his feelings. </p><p>His door opened. </p><p>"Go away," he told Sana, too tired to be kind.</p><p>"Dedue, the entire city is talking about it."</p><p>"About what?" He had to be misunderstanding her, because there was no reason for the city to gossip about how Dedue Molinaro had been on a failure of a date. He did turn to look at her, blurry-eyed from just waking up. </p><p>Sana's expression was grim. </p><p>"The palace was attacked last night. A group of assassins reached the Faerghus king and his men." </p><p>Dedue sat up. Suddenly, he was not so tired. </p><p>"Sana—" </p><p>"Go. I will manage the forge today." </p><p>He had no words for her, just a thankful nod before rushing to get dressed. </p><p>The palace was a hive of activity. It was only a matter of luck and the fact that he was often seen at the palace to deliver pieces or discuss work that the guards did not turn him away. Even with that on his side, Dedue hadn't the faintest idea how to ask for Felix or even who would know. It occurred to Dedue, as he looked around the entryway of the palace, that he did not even know Felix's family name. </p><p>"Dedue," a friendly but concerned voice called. Majid appeared like the sun on a foggy day. "What are you doing here?" </p><p>"I — I need to see someone," Dedue stammered, only just stopping himself from wringing his hands in worry. "It's about last night." </p><p>Majid raised an eyebrow. "I will support you as your friend, Dedue, but now is not the time. There was an attack—"</p><p>"His name is Felix and he's a member of the dignitaries. I — I just need to know that he's alright." Dedue swallowed, licking his lips. He felt light-headed, as if someone had punched him in the chest. Majid's expression softened. </p><p>"I will see what I can do." Majid turned. He strode away, his scarf fluttering in the space behind him. </p><p>Dedue wondered if it was possible to be so nervous that one vibrated into pieces, or if his heart could stop from stress. He didn't think Felix would be dead, but how could he know? He had never seen him fight, had only assumed that he was a fighter — he was from Faerghus and everyone knew that they could swing a sword before they could lace their own boots. </p><p>He still bit his bottom lip so hard that he drew blood while he waited, the scurrying servants and messengers passing him by without a second glance. It was like a twisted version of the prior night. Instead of feeling the dull throb of depression, he was repeatedly stabbed by uncertainty. Dedue hoped with every fiber of his being that Felix was safe. The rest of him just tried not to be sick in the middle of the palace. </p><p>There was no sign of Felix and his familiar blond hair, but Dedue did see another figure that he had encountered before — one of the black-haired brothers from the garden, now in light armor and with two swords strapped to his side. He was heading right for Dedue, so Dedue squared his shoulders and swallowed down bile. </p><p>"Are you Dedue Molinaro?" The man asked, his Duscur shoddy but comprehensible at least. Dedue nodded. "What do you want?" </p><p>Suddenly, Dedue felt like he was the butt of a joke that he hadn't heard. He gestured vaguely with one hand. </p><p>"I wanted to see if Lord Felix was safe." </p><p>The man in front of him glared, crossing his arms. "You're looking at him." </p><p>Now Dedue was very confused. "Pardon me, sir, but—" </p><p>"I am Felix Fraldarius. You are what? A Duscur merchant? If this is some attempt to discuss trade deals, then now is not the time." This Felix — <i>Fraldarius? Was that his family name?</i> — turned around. "I do not know how you got in, but leave before I have you thrown out." </p><p>"Where is — he said his name was Felix," Dedue said, voice rising. "You were with him in the gardens." </p><p>Fraldarius — because it felt weird to refer to him as Felix, because Dedue didn't know what was happening, why his Felix had lied — stopped. He shook his head, black hair twisting like a tail.</p><p>"I am going to murder him." Fraldarius glanced at Dedue. "Stay here. I know who you are looking for." He did not have to go very far. </p><p>"Your Majesty!" Someone shouted as a woman and man appeared from a side hall. The man was wearing silk robes but they couldn't hide the bandages that were wrapped tight around his torso. Despite his disadvantage, he was running with impressive speed. </p><p><i>Felix</i>, Dedue though. <i>Or—</i></p><p>"Your Majesty," Fraldarius called, voice ice cold, "I take it you can explain why this man of Duscur asked for me when he meant to ask for you?" </p><p>"I can explain—" </p><p>"Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, you were stabbed last night!" The woman shouted. If there was anyone who wasn't watching, now they were at least listening to what was happening. "Sit back down before I make Glenn carry you back to your room."</p><p>"His Majesty is not a child," Fraldarius chided her. </p><p>"His Majesty is right here!" Felix — Dimitri? — shouted. He brushed some of his hair back. Dedue had never seen it down before, had never really conceptualized how long it was. "I apologize for the confusion. Ingrid—"</p><p>"What is going on here?" Another person — a man in Faerghan armor. He was shorter than Fraldarius but had the same golden eyes and dark hair. Brothers, maybe, Dedue thought. "Your Majesty, shouldn't you be resting?" </p><p>Ingrid let out a heavy sigh. "That is what I told him, but he heard that someone was asking for Felix and rushed out of his room." She glared at Dedue. "What do you want? The king has better things to do than speak with some merchant." </p><p>"This is Dedue," the man who was apparently the king of Faerghus and not just a random noble, said. "He has — he has been making a sword for me." </p><p>"Oh, you have got to be—"</p><p>Fraldarius's brother laughed, a sharp cackle that echoed in the hall. "Is this who you got that commission from? Well, I hope he is talented." </p><p>The real Felix scowled, eyebrows furrowed over narrow eyes. "That is not the takeaway from this situation," he said. "Your Majesty, as your advisor I must insist that you go back to sleep." </p><p>"I feel fine, Felix, really," Dimitri — the king? His Majesty? — insisted. "Dedue, I apologize. This must be overwhelming for you."</p><p>"It is fine," Dedue lied. <i>Overwhelmed</i> would be an understatement. </p><p>"You need to sit down," Ingrid emphasized. She was speaking in the Faerghus tongue, but Dedue had picked up on a little from haggling with merchants and his own curiosity, so he wasn't entirely in the dark. "You were stabbed last night. It's a miracle you are even awake."  </p><p>"Dedue—" Dimitri looked at him with lovely blue eyes, but Dedue couldn't bring himself to look back. </p><p>"Your Majesty, I apologize. I did not realize — I should allow you to rest." The pit in Dedue's stomach felt a lot like hopelessness. </p><p>Felix nodded slowly. "The man of Duscur is right. Your Majesty, I will escort you back to your room." He was speaking in Duscur, so though he eyed Dedue like an annoyance he at least allowed Dedue to understand the conversation. Dedue didn't know how to feel about that. </p><p>"But Dedue—" </p><p>"I will make sure he gets home," the other Fraldarius stated. He grinned at Dedue. "My name is Glenn. His Majesty is fine, really, but he cannot talk right now." Though he was smiling, his hand was on his sword and Dedue had no question that staying was not an option.</p><p>Dimitri furrowed his eyebrows, an unpleasant expression making him actually look rather intimidating. Dedue had never thought of him as fierce, but he was tall and broad — even injured, he was still holding himself regally. It was not difficult to imagine him with a sword or lance in hand, leading a group of soldiers to battle. </p><p>"As I said, his Majesty can make decisions for himself right now," Dimitri insisted. He looked at Dedue, gaze dropping to something akin to hope. "Would you like to stay?" </p><p>But Dedue knew better than to agree. He shook his head, taking a step back. </p><p>"You are too kind, your Majesty." He moved and could not see the despair that flickered across Dimitri's face. "I do not need an escort home, but this simple blacksmith thanks you for your kindness." </p><p>As he left, he could hear Ingrid say that it was for the best. </p><p>#</p><p>Dedue was working in the forge when the bell rang. He let Sana get it. There was no one he really wanted to see — not his friends, not his own family, and certainly not Dimitri. He continued work on the shield. It was a commemorative piece for the crown prince who had, apparently, defeated the assassins with his hands and a hairbrush. Dedue knew everyone was talking about the attack for the last few days. He had done his best not to hear it. </p><p>Sana waited for him to pause between blows to clear her throat. Dedue turned to look at her. He couldn't clean anything from her expression.</p><p>"It's for you," she said. Dedue sighed as he went to see who was bothering him now. </p><p>It was Felix. The real one, not the one who had lied to him. He stood there in teal robes, swords hanging from his belt. He wasn't scowling, but he looked displeased. </p><p>"What do you want?" Dedue asked before wincing internally at his own lack of manners. Just because he was bitter did not mean he could take it out on someone who, through no fault of his own, was associated with Faerghus. </p><p>"I wanted to talk." Felix crossed and then uncrossed his arms. "Also I heard that you might have a sword for me to pick up." </p><p>Dedue swallowed, crushing the part of him that was foolish enough to think that Dimitri would come to pick it up himself. He doubted the king was even allowed to leave the palace walls and, if he did, he certainly would have a dozen guards. </p><p>"Yes. I can fetch it." </p><p>"Good." </p><p>Dedue left to fetch the sword. When he returned, Felix was examining some of the ceramic pieces. He didn't comment on them as he turned back to Dedue, reaching out for the sword. When Felix hesitated, Dedue added,</p><p>"His Majesty already paid." </p><p>"I thought so. I am just surprised." Felix picked the sword from Dedue's grasp. The sheath fit well in his hand, though the blade was made for someone taller. It was apparent with the length — if he fastened it to his belt, it would drag on the ground. "You made this in what? Two months? That is impressive." </p><p>"Thank you." Dedue shifted from side-to-side. "His Majesty wanted something to remember his visit. I do not think he counted on being stabbed."</p><p>Felix snorted. "Hopefully not." He eyed Dedue. Though he was over a foot shorter, Dedue had a feeling that Felix was still more than willing to get into a fight with him. Dedue wasn't sure how he felt about that. "What do you see in Dimitri?" </p><p>The question held too many layers for Dedue to answer easily. Felix shook his head. </p><p>"Of course. You just want his money or his power. You will get neither."</p><p>"It is not that," Dedue replied immediately, feeling returning to his tongue. “I — I have found myself caring for him. His happiness brings me happiness. His pain brings me pain.”</p><p>“You know nothing about him.”</p><p>“Perhaps, but I want to know more.”</p><p>Felix scowled. “No, you do not.” He tilted his head up and muttered something Dedue did not catch. “His Majesty is not normal. Nor was his father. We do not speak of it, because to do so would be rude, but they are — were — both prone to fits of… broodiness. Nothing evil,” Felix quickly clarified, “But a darkness inside. Something unsettling.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” </p><p>“He gets emotional. Reckless. His father would throw fits or claim that he heard or saw things. Dimitri…” Felix’s face closed off, going blank with enough ease that Dedue knew it had to be practiced. “I do not care to know what happens in his head, but it is not pleasant. I grew up with him. We were cradle mates. In another life, we would have been betrothed. You claim that you want to know him better, but you should trust me when I say that there is nothing you want to do less.”</p><p>“I think that I can make that decision for myself,” Dedue replied. Felix rolled his eyes. Dedue had the terrifying thought that Sana and Felix would either get along very well or kill one another. He hoped he never had to find out which. “Is he healing well?”</p><p>“Yes.” Felix ran a finger over the scabbard in his hands. “He is fine. He has always been hard to kill.”</p><p>The lull in conversation let Dedue examine Felix. He was slim for a Faerghan but all muscle which was visible even under his clothes. His hair was tied back with a thin piece of leather, long for a man’s, and clearly well taken care of. In fact, he would have looked completely fine except for the dark circles under his eyes and the way he favored his left leg. </p><p>Dedue wondered if anyone was telling Felix to rest. He didn’t seem like the kind of person to listen to that sort of advice.</p><p>“We are leaving in two days,” Felix suddenly said. “There was an attack in Fhirdiad — in our capital. His Majesty is needed there.”</p><p>There was so much that Dedue wanted to say, but none of it was for Felix. </p><p>“Will I be able to say goodbye?” Dedue asked.</p><p>Felix shrugged. “It is not up to me. But if you come, I will let him know.” He turned on his heel and left without saying another word.</p><p>#</p><p>Dimitri stood on the palace steps as the knights rushed about, carrying packs to horses and getting in each other’s way. The servants were loading up the carts, a few scribes were jotting down final notes, and the solicitors finished final agreements with some negotiators from Duscur. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky, yet not too hot to begin the journey home. Ingrid was smiling, Felix looked a little less murderous than usual, and Glenn was impressing a few palace guards by doing cheap magic tricks with a coin.</p><p>It was a perfect day. Dimitri’s injury barely even hurt anymore. He felt miserable. </p><p>“You should be proud,” Ingrid tried to tell him. Dimitri looked at her with a skeptical gaze. “You’ve negotiated a treaty between our countries. Faerghus doesn’t have to worry about the north and can focus her attention towards her real enemies.”</p><p>“It just feels like nothing has really changed,” Dimitri replied.</p><p>“Maybe not right now, but they will.” Ingrid looked at Glenn. He was laughing at a joke, completely oblivious to the fact that he was being watched. “I am happy we are going home, but maybe it isn’t too bad here.” </p><p>Dimitri thought about Dedue, then actively did not think about him. It was for the best. </p><p>“It is better that we go home,” Dimitri lied. “There are people waiting for us there.” He turned to go sit inside — his presence was not needed and he would rather not dwell on things so much as he was apt to do when reminded of how different and isolated he was. </p><p>Dimitri had not gone more than three steps when someone called, </p><p>“Your Majesty!” The knight knelt at Dimitri’s feet. “A man asks for you. He says his name is Dedue Molinaro.”</p><p>Ingrid looked at Dimitri, but he did not so much as glance in her direction. He strode forward, scanning the crowd for—</p><p>“Dedue.” Dimitri felt lighter than air. He walked closer, each step echoing in his ears. Dedue was wearing nice, though not formal, clothes and had a basic bag slung over one shoulder. He was wearing earrings. Dimitri loved them. “Dedue!” </p><p>People were staring, but Dimitri couldn’t get himself to care. He vaguely heard Felix yelling at people to go back to doing their jobs. Dimitri would thank him later, probably. </p><p>“Fe — Dimit — your Majesty.” Dedue stumbled over his words, though he fluidly bowed without hesitation. Dimitri shook his head, quickly reaching down to help Dedue back up on his feet.</p><p>“Please, call me Dimitri.” He laughed nervously. “I am sorry for not telling you. I… did not want to make you nervous.” </p><p>“I understand.” Dedue met Dimitri’s eyes, then looked away, then glanced back again. “I apologize if this is not my place, but I wanted to say that I am sad that we missed our date.” </p><p>Dimitri scratched the back of his head, nervous laughter petering out within a few seconds of the first chuckle. “I missed it too. I would undoubtedly have had a better time with you than I did being stabbed.” When Dedue laughed, Dimitri felt that all was right with the world. “I hope I did not worry you too greatly,” Dimitri added. </p><p>“I was only concerned once I learnt why you had not arrived.” Dedue examined Dimitri carefully, though it was too clinical to be anything else. “Have you healed enough to travel?”</p><p>“Yes, thankfully. Your healers and our healers consulted with one another and confirmed I will be fine, though I am not to get into any fights anytime soon.” Dimitri glanced to the side. </p><p>Felix was arguing with someone about his horse. He kept pointing to the bundles on his horse’s saddle and then pointing to Dimitri’s. It took Dimitri a moment to realize that he probably should step in, but before he could move Glenn practically materialized next to his brother. </p><p>“Why Felix?” Dedue asked suddenly. </p><p>“Oh? Uh,” Dimitri laughed again. “Honestly, it was the first name I could think of.” </p><p>“Oh.” Dedue looked at the two Fraldarius men. Felix was tapping the hilt of his sword. Glenn had one hand on his shoulder and was gesticulating wildly with the other. “You do not seem like either of them.” </p><p>“I will take that as a compliment.” </p><p>“It was.” Dedue fidgeted with the strap of his bag. The leather was well-worn but sturdy. Dimitri wondered if he made it or if it was a gift. Which then made him remember—</p><p>“The sword is beautiful.” Dimitri tapped his own belt. The sword hung there, a perfect fit. The scabbard caught the afternoon’s light and gleamed. “I love it. You really are the most talented blacksmith in Fódlan.”</p><p>Dedue flushed, gaze dropping to the ground. </p><p>“I think you mean Duscur.”</p><p>“No,” Dimitri replied, “I am quite confident that I mean all of Fódlan.” The two locked eyes again. Dimitri hoped that he wasn’t as red as he felt, but he held little hope for the fact. </p><p>“Oh,” Dedue realized, opening his bag, “I had a gift for you. So you can remember me — us. Here.” He withdrew a very familiar bowl, holding it out with deceptive gentleness. His hands were the rough ones of a working man, but Dimitri knew his were no better — he just had less reason for the scars there. </p><p>Dimitri took it from him, half-expecting his strength to shatter it on touch. It was heavy. Cold. He wondered if it would survive the trip to Faerghus. He wondered what he would use it for. He knew that he would treasure it forever.</p><p>“Come with us,” Dimitri blurted out. Dedue’s eyes went wide. “I — I apologize. I meant — well, I meant what I said. Faerghus could use a smith of your caliber.” He was not just referring to Faerghus and, if the gaze Dedue levelled him was any indication, Dedue knew that. </p><p>“I would not presume to think that I could replace your own talented craftsmen,” Dedue replied. “I make things that are pretty, not things that are perfect.”</p><p><i>But you are perfect,</i> Dimitri thought, and it was with great effort that he held his tongue. Instead, he laughed.</p><p>“Nothing is perfect, but you can fix even the most terrible of mistakes.” He looked at the bowl, then up at Dedue. “I… I know that we have not spoken much about us, but I… I would want you to know that you always have a place by my side.”</p><p>Dedue paused. </p><p>“Would that not be inappropriate?” </p><p>“I am king,” Dimitri said, trying to sound serious. “I get to decide what is allowed.” </p><p>“I suppose.” Dedue glanced at the knights milling about. It was clear the group was almost ready to leave. “There are things I would have to finish. I cannot leave my sister without assistance.” </p><p>“Of course. There is no expiration or expectation. Whatever you wish.”</p><p>Dedue smiled. “Well, you do need someone to make a new helmet. I do not suppose you would be interested in commissioning one?” </p><p>“I would love to,” Dimitri answered with a laugh. “Though I wouldn’t mind seeing your restoration work either, Dedue.” </p><p>The two stared at one another for a long while, the world moving around them. Usually, Dimitri felt concern when it was too quiet. With Dedue, it just seemed right. </p><p>“Your Majesty, we are ready to depart whenever you are,” Glenn said, coming over. He glanced at Dedue, then back at Dimitri and then raised an eyebrow. Dimitri swallowed. He gave Glenn the barest of shrugs. “Well, just let us know.” </p><p>“Dimitri—” Dedue tilted his head up, expression growing serious. “If you have me, I would be honored to accompany you back to Faerghus.”</p><p>“No, Dedue,” Dimitri replied, “I believe it would be my honor.” The two stared at one another. Glenn groaned.</p><p>“Your Majesty— no, Dimitri. As your friend, please just kiss the man,” Glenn begged in Faerghan. Dimitri stared at him. </p><p>He was utterly unprepared for when Dedue stepped forward, leaned down, and kissed him. Dedue smelled like smoke, tasted like spice, and felt like an anchor, keeping Dimitri from drifting too far from shore. One of his hands was on Dimitri’s chin, the other delicately resting on his hip. The bowl was awkwardly squished between them and Dimitri recalled the saying <i>leave room for the Goddess</i>. He hoped that he was doing this right. </p><p><i>Goddess</i> did Dimitri hope he was doing this right.</p><p>“I need a day to prepare,” Dedue murmured when they broke apart. Dimitri nodded. “I will return tomorrow. Will you wait for me?” </p><p>At a loss for words, Dimitri could only nod again. Dedue smiled brighter than the sun. He kissed Dimitri on the forehead and then walked off. He was barely three feet away when Glenn slapped Dimitri on the back.</p><p>“Good for you,” Glenn said, cackling with laughter. “You deserve it.” He smirked. “Was that your first kiss?”</p><p>“Wh— No!” Dimitri protested. “It was — no!” His complaints drew Felix and Ingrid’s attention, so soon Dimitri was surrounded by three of his childhood friends all heckling him for details in one manner or another. Ingrid rolled her eyes when he said that their leave was delayed a day, Felix was the smart one who suggested that half the knights and the supplies go on ahead, and Glenn kept asking Dimitri who his first kiss was. </p><p>Dimitri held onto his bowl, his fingers gliding over the gold seams. Suddenly, he realized something. </p><p>“Hold this,” he told Felix, handing him the bowl. He ignored the confused spluttering and strode over to Dedue, quickly catching up. “Dedue, I — I wanted to give you something.”</p><p>Dedue turned, raising an eyebrow. “You do not have to give me anything,” he said. </p><p>“But I would like to. It’s rude of me to accept something without giving in return.” Dimitri fumbled with it, but managed to unbuckle his parrying knife’s sheath from his belt. “Here. It is not as nice as what you made for me, but it — it is practical.” </p><p>“I — thank you.” Dedue sounded like he didn’t know what to say. Dimitri took that as a good thing.</p><p>“You will always be safe with me,” Dimitri swore. “I know I am not giving you a lot of time to think of this, but I will make sure you do not regret it.” </p><p>Dedue kissed Dimitri. Behind them, Dimitri could hear Glenn cackling.</p><p>“I trust you, Dimitri.”</p><p>The breath caught in Dimitri’s throat. “I cannot explain how much that means to me.”</p><p>“You do not have to.” Dedue took Dimitri’s hand in his. “I know.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on <a href="https://twitter.com/ashes8012">Twitter.</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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